Ranboo is triggered into an enderwalk trance, leading to the death of his husband and the burning of his house. When he finds a mysterious line written in his journal, Ranboo suspects the terrorist Dream is behind the plot. But even the simplest ans...
For a moment, Ranboo was left speechless. The sentient had never heard any stories of Tubbo's dreamon hunting days. Whenever the enderman hybrid asked it, Tubbo had simply brushed him off. Ranboo wondered what else Tubbo had hid from over the past seven months.
The creature's red and green eyes widened as an epiphany dawned on him: maybe the fire was an act of revenge. Whether it was by Dream or his dreamon, Ranboo didn't know, but he vowed to get to the bottom of it all in the end. For Tubbo.
Presently, the enderman halfling fixed his hunting partner with a hard stare, and said, "Fundy, I will not swear on the grave of my platonic husband, not when there's still a chance to save him. But I swear to you that I will do everything in my power to destroy every dreamon on this server. I promise."
That seemed to satisfy the fox hybrid, as he gave his partner a curt nod. "Good. Now, as I was saying-"
"Well, look who we have here."
The two halflings looked up to find Quackity, the mayor of Las Nevadas, walking out of the local strip club. With a certain macho swagger, the man strode over to the two wanderers, lips pursed and arms crossed. He was dressed in khaki slacks and a white button-up shirt, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Instead of the expected nice, perfectly-shined shoes, the mayor's shoes were scuffed and dirty; they complimented his loose and wrinkled red tie. Ranboo mused that perhaps Quackity had booked a private session at the club, but the man's eyes told a different story.
Quackity was a proud businessman, but it was well-known that he'd go to great lengths to preserve his empire. Ranboo could only imagine the things the man had seen, the things he'd done. His short, black locks and black, soulless eyes only reinforced this ruthless image of the mayor. He was a force to be reckoned with, a man not to be messed with, and he was angry.
Quackity's eyes narrowed in suspicion as he looked the pair up and down. "Fundy, and the husband of Snowchester's president," he hummed. His stoic gaze slid over to the enderman hybrid, the long scar over the man's left eye freezing the humanoid where he stood. "Tell me, Ranboo. What is your business here?"
Before Ranboo could think of a good response, Fundy intervened with his own. "We're hunting dreamons!"
The mayor raised an eyebrow at the claim. "Dreamons?"
"Oh, yes. They're very dangerous creatures," the fox hybrid replied. "We saw a huge group of them fly over Las Nevadas last night, so we're here to hunt them down."
Quackity raised his hand to leisurely look over his nails, his expression bored and disinterested. "You know, Fundy, if these dreamons are such a problem, then why didn't you tell the rest of us during our morning meeting?"
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Hmm...Quackity seems to be an interesting figure, huh? I wonder why his shoes were so dirty?
Vote to set a dreamon trap!! :D
As always, thank you for the views and votes and everything in between!! Y'all are the opposite of dreamons- you're such kind souls!! <333
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[Image Credits] "Welcome to Fabulous Las Vegas sign, March 2011.JPG" (Cropped Slightly, Text Changed) by An Errant Knight (https://commons.m.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Welcome_to_Fabulous_Las_Vegas_sign,_March_2011.JPG)
